30 May 2009
Unease
Underarm deodorant is no
more admission you reek
than time spent combing
remnants of once abundant
locks proposes you are
really Narcissus
But it won't deter sideline
critics observing the same;
somewhere along the road
you stepped on a few toes
bruised a few fragile egos
It wasn’t always that way
Between collapsed edifices
and somewhere concealed
beneath piled underwear
discards your long shadow
still casts an aura of doubt –
fuels eclectic debate
Like the milk and honey
infused in scented soap,
an all-pervasive unease
lingers to comfort you
anonymously - and what
if its actually right?
© 14 March 2009, I. D. Carswell
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